


heal me

by confidantes



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Adults, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, or: my kink is ren reassuring goro that he’s valid, they’re so in love and i’m embarrassed, this is a hurt/comfort fic if there ever was one lol, this just may be the most disgustingly sweet thing i’ve ever written, this song is such a BOP and then i got a bad idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 09:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16808134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confidantes/pseuds/confidantes
Summary: “You’re amazing, Goro. I wish you could see that, sometimes. And you don’t want to believe me, I know.” He kisses the tip of Goro’s nose. “So I have to keep saying it until you do.”(Or, in which Goro feels inadequate as a detective, and Ren reassures him that he's more than enough.)





	heal me

i need you to inspire me  
when i can't inspire myself  
i need you to provide for me  
when i feel like someone else

(lay me down, lay me down now  
lay me down, touch my spirit, oh)  
— “heal me,” lady gaga

-

-

Before he can enter his own apartment, Goro takes a moment to recollect himself. To recompose his breath, to realign his expression into something neutral. As if he had not read the reports, had not spent the hours shaken up, had not been told _some sicko got to them first_. What a cruel phrase; he’s going to need to schedule a meeting with the other detectives on what does and doesn’t constitute proper case briefing diction. And water. What he really needs is water. Or sleep.

His hand trembles on the knob. He has to remind himself not to put his whole weight behind the door, otherwise it might collide into the opposite wall. Easy. Doorway open, he glances up — and what else is in his direct line of view but Ren in the kitchen, at the sink, wearing an apron and scrubbing some pots and pans against the noise of running water. Without looking up from his post, Ren says, “You’re home later than usual. Trouble at the office?”

Goro takes his coat off and hangs it on the hook by the door. “You know how it is.”

He walks over to the kitchen. The little dining table, which they jokingly called “bistro-style” to forgive it for its size, is covered in an array of mismatched plates, their contents obscured by clear plastic covers, fogged from the inside with steam. A pang of guilt. He can never seem to get home in time for a piping hot dinner right off the stove. Coming up behind Ren, he wraps his arms around Ren’s middle and nuzzles his cheek in the crook of his neck.

“Mm,” Goro says. “Smells good.”

“I know I do,” Ren responds, and Goro can hear the grin in his voice. In response, he snorts against Ren’s skin.

“When’d you get this?” Goro tugs at the apron.

“Hm?” Ren pauses to consider the garment with one sudsy hand. “Oh, that — I got it today because I was tired of getting the front of my shirt wet whenever I did the dishes.” He takes his hands out of the sink completely when Goro’s head dips further against his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Goro lifts his head to peck Ren on the side of his neck. “Yes, of course.” In one fluid motion, he retrieves his arms and turns away. “Apologies, I ate on the way home and spoiled my appetite. But please, go ahead and eat without me.”

Without another word, he makes a rapid escape out of the kitchen, crossing into the living room. The lights are off, but even in the dimness are visible the silhouettes of the life he and Ren had built together. The slope of the couch, the gentle hum of their sleeping electronics. It reminds him of a forest at night, spirits dozing in every nook. From blind memory, he finds the door to their bedroom. Flicking the light on, he then releases a generous sigh and sits on the edge of the bed, burrowing his face in his hands.

When he looks up again, Ren is leaning in the doorway, arms crossed.

“You didn’t eat anything, did you,” Ren says. Not even a question.

Goro laughs softly. “Why do I even bother trying to lie to you.”

“Because you’re an actual idiot.” Ren lifts himself off the door jamb, and now it’s Ren who’s got his arms around Goro, chin resting on the soft tuft of hair on Goro’s crown. “I’m here. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“Yes, well…” A brief memory of a sliver of light, through the closet door ajar. “You know I’m very good at it.”

“Very.” Ren doesn’t say anything else, just patiently runs his fingers through Goro’s hair. He loves this about Ren — willing to sit in silence with him, giving Goro space to speak on his own terms. For a man for whom around every corner lurked an incoherent horror, he could find remarkable safety in the confines of Ren’s arms.

“Very well.” He tilts his head up, and Ren leans back to look him in the eyes. “It was a difficult day. I’m afraid I’m not doing enough for the case.”

Ren frowns. “You know you’re doing everything possible thing you can.”

Eyes closed, his head pitches forward into Ren’s chest. His forehead scrapes against the textured canvas of the apron. “Missing orphan kids, Ren,” is all he says.

A heavy exhale, heaved from Ren’s lungs. Goro feels his whole weight shift with the air. “You didn’t tell me that part,” Ren murmurs.

“I’m sorry.” His voice gets buried in the thickness between them. “I try to shield you from the pricklier details. But it is...more personal this time. It’s clawing me up from the inside.” He pulls himself back a little bit. “And because of my emotionality...I am becoming a burden to my team.”

“Don’t say that.”

He lets out a short laugh, a bitter self-repudiation. “I say it because it’s true, Ren. You know how much I hate to admit my shortcomings, but I’m the weak link on the case. And those kids, Ren — I’m not doing enough for them. I can’t do anything for them.”

“Listen to me.” Ren’s hands wrap around to cradle the back of Goro’s head, tilting back until he can press his lips to Goro’s. Then, simply leans their foreheads together. “You’re the most capable detective on the force. You’ve cracked cases with barely anything to go off of. And you actually _care_ , care about the people around you. The cases aren’t just numbers or data to you. I don’t know how you see all of what you see and still have the willpower to go back out there and do it again.” He kisses now — brow ridge, cheekbone, jawline. “You’re amazing, Goro. I wish you could see that, sometimes.”

“Thank you.” His fingers curl a little tighter around Ren’s sweater. “And you’re —”

“Shhh.” Ren places his hand over Goro’s mouth. “Not tonight. Tonight’s for you.”

“No...that’s —”

“You don’t want to believe me, I know.” He kisses the tip of Goro’s nose. “So I have to keep saying it until you do.”

“You’re so embarrassing —” but his mouth is quickly occupied by the warmth of Ren’s kiss, who leans them backwards onto the bed. He smooths out the length of Goro’s arms until they’re above his head and he has Goro by the wrists — just where they want to be. This is what Goro’s always liked about Ren: kindness mixed with mischief. Light with an underside of dark. The pulse flutters in Goro’s chest.

“Pay attention,” Ren says quietly, “because I’m only going to say this once.” He kisses Goro again, long and sensual, before pulling away to meet his gaze. “You’re smart. So smart. The smartest person I know.”

“You’re right,” Goro mumbles cheekily, “I am only going to hear that once —” He’s derailed from this thought when Ren’s lips find the soft of his neck.

“And you’re strong. You survived hell and back.” Goro wants to roll his eyes, which would be easier if Ren hadn’t claimed ownership over a particular square of skin over his Adam’s apple. “I admire you, you know. You’ve achieved so much all on your own.”

“Mm. You’re starting to convince me,” he says, drawing Ren’s chin up for another kiss.

“And plus, you’re like, really hot.” Goro snorts mid-snog and shoves Ren in the shoulder. It doesn’t ruin the moment — pillowed in their dense duvet, Goro’s tongue finds Ren’s, and their hands find each other. As Ren sucks gently on Goro’s bottom lip, his fingers slit open the top button of Goro’s shirt, revealing a sharp triangle of naked skin, hilled by a lurking breastbone. He uses the topography as a map, dragging nails across the shallow rise of muscle until he pulls open a small moan from the base of Goro’s throat.

What does ruin the moment is the tense growl that erupts from Ren’s stomach.

“ _Ugh_ ,” Ren groans, and within a second, he’s up, back on his feet. He grabs Goro’s hands and tugs on them; Goro sits up, but feels too heavy to stand. He wants to, for Ren. He wants to go wherever Ren will take him.

“You know.” He lifts the flap of Ren’s apron, the corner of his sweater, kisses the skin of the belly underneath. “I don’t think that you’re pulling off the apron look, dear.”

“I am going to murder you, bury your body in the park, and make your colleagues solve the case of your disappearance,” Ren comes back seamlessly, before leaning down to place a kiss on the corner of Goro’s lips. His voice is a soft plead. “Come eat dinner with me.”

He hasn’t let go of Ren’s hands yet. His thumbs rub gentle circles against the knuckles. The warm friction, of skin against skin, grounds him. He couldn’t have made a sensation like this up in his head. He couldn’t have imagined, a few years ago, what it felt like to be in love, to live with someone and share a life between two people. A few years ago, he was still just a rookie cop, a lone, joyless, ambitious young man focused on his career ascension, no room to fit anyone else. It was a routine call, a disturbance by some punk kids, small fry stuff, and he was dispatched to break it up. Turns out disturbance meant protest, outside of some megacorp high-rise, he can’t even remember which one, but he remembers their leader, all fiery and defiant eyes, even from behind the glint of glasses and a messy bedhead. Sir, Goro remembers saying, you don’t have a permit to be here. The protest returned the next day, and so did Goro. Sir, he said again, you don’t have a permit to be here. Except this time the leader had brought a coffee for Goro, because I figured you might be here for a while, and since we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on, my name’s Ren. Eventually, through their many conversations in front of that building, extending long after everyone else had gone home, against all odds, they became friends. Goro can’t even remember what became of the protests, because what slowly overtook them were the warm, homemade bentos Ren would bring him whenever he’d work late hours, or when he got sick and told no one, but soup arrived in a timely manner anyway. And in return, because he couldn’t cook to save his life, surprising Ren with dates at increasingly experimental restaurants, who, Goro quickly learned, owned a shockingly adventurous, all-consuming appetite. Meals with Ren became the one constant in his life he could count on, and could come back to on troubled days, a quiet salve for the invisible wound. They had always communicated their feelings through food long before they could start speaking to each other in words.

He looks up at him. “Okay,” Goro says.

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I get for listening to the A Star is Born soundtrack too many times. I was literally trying to go to sleep, except I couldn’t get Ren and Goro to stop flirting in my head, which was extremely rude of them, and which is how this happened. 
> 
> A quick, short thing while I work on Italian Adventures™ (and try not to keep adding in new ideas until it doubles in size, like I did last time). Enjoy!!


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